


6AM Bus

by Eunmih



Series: Midnight Drabbles [2]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 14:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eunmih/pseuds/Eunmih
Summary: Kihyun wakes up at 5AM every week day to catch the 6AM bus. And every week day, between sitting at the bus stop and stepping into the car, Kihyun shares the silence with the same boy.





	6AM Bus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shitty4eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shitty4eyes/gifts).



> An afternoon drabble of soft Changkis for a soft friend.
> 
> Now playing: [Dream Catcher](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nK5blLPbFyE) by Vexento.

** LIGHTS **

Kihyun wakes up at 5AM every week day to catch the 6AM bus. He lives in the outskirts, between Goyang and Seoul, and attends university in the capital. And every week day, between sitting in the bus stop and stepping into the car, Kihyun shares the silence with the same boy.

The world is as silent as if it ended in the night. The sun is still resolutely below the horizon and the street is as dark as some old-school black and white movies. And the boy next to Kihyun, airpods always shoved into his ears, sits in the corner, hair black like the night that falls a little into his eyes, all mysterious and alone.

Kihyun remembers when he used to say ‘Good morning’ every day, only to be greeted with more silence. Either it was on purpose or the boy simply couldn’t hear him (those airpods--there are small galaxy stickers on them), a mystery. 

In fact, everything about this is boy is a mystery. Because he doesn’t take the 6AM bus, he just sits there every morning like he’s waiting for something. Maybe he’s a masked raver, maybe he’s soft spoken, Kihyun has no idea. But there’s always a blank expression on the boy’s face, and Kihyun has never heard his voice before, not even after almost a year of shared morning silences.

During summer, the sun rises earlier. And in the wash of the new light, the boy always seems to look like an old photograph, one of nostalgias, beautiful (Kihyun dares to think so), like the polaroids Kihyun collects on the walls of his bedroom.

The bus turns into the street at the farthest intersection, a barf-like noise as it gets closer and rolls to a stop in front of them. Kihyun, as usual, glances at the boy (who, as usual, doesn’t move an inch) and lifts the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he makes to get up, reaches for the dossier next to him and clutches it closer to his chest.

The wind doesn’t blow that harshly, it’s just a faint breeze and it’s warm, but it makes dust get into Kihyun’s eye, consequently making him walk into the side of the bus and bumping against it. _Hard._

_Ouch._

He shakes his head and awkwardly brings his fist up to rub at his eye but it hurts even more, like he’s rubbing the grain of sand against his cornea. _Ouch, ouch, ouch!_

“Are you alright, son?” the bus driver asks, leaning forward to peek at him.

Kihyun tries to blink at the man and nods, “Yes, just… I’m sorry, I’ll--” Kihyun tries to step into the bus but almost trips, lets his dossier fall open on the stairs. _Great._

“Today is not your day, young man,” the bus driver says.

Kihyun laughs softly as he hurries to collect his things and rush inside, eyes probably all red with the tears that collect by his lashes. His one eye still feels kind of funny.

He fumbles with his wallet, scans his card and then walks to his usual seat (not too far behind, not too close to the entrance) and plops down by the window. He bristles a little to himself as he puts his things down and starts massaging his eye.

 _Outwards to inwards,_ he thinks to himself, turns his head to the window and pauses when he finds the boy looking up at him.

_Oh._

Kihyun blinks, eye still hurting, and _(for some stupid reason)_ lifts his hand to wave a little. He doesn’t even know why he does it, it’s stupid and he doesn’t even know this person. But it’s like an automatic response to finding someone looking at him like they _are_ watching him.

When Kihyun drops his hand, already sort of turning away, the boy slowly lifts his and… waves, fingers curling in and stretching out like he’s groping at the air. He doesn’t even _smile_ or anything, just waves. And that, for some reason, makes Kihyun smile, chest a little warm. 

But the doors close and the bus turns back into the driveway. So, Kihyun slumps back and sighs.

It wasn't even a grain of sand, it was a damn lash. His own lashes want to blind him. _Mutiny!!!_

  


**CAMERA**

As usual, the vibrant summer rays have yet begun to warm the day by the time Kihyun reaches the bus stop. As usual, the mysterious boy is already sitting down in the corner, airpods shoved into his ears.

Today, though, as Kihyun makes to sit down, he says, “Good morning.”

He doesn’t expect the mysterious boy to hear him (he never did, never does, probably never will). But after their interaction the previous day, Kihyun sort of hopes... _Did that count as an interaction?_

But of course, as expected, nothing.

Kihyun blinks slowly at the asphalt and pouts before glancing up and then to the side. He watches the boy with an intense glare. _Look at me, you little shit._

The morning fades in like a scene from a bad theatre production and Kihyun keeps _staring._ The bus will be here soon and he deserves at least a ‘good morning’ back.

It probably works, because the boy blinks up at him and then seems to startle a little, eyes everywhere on Kihyun like he expects Kihyun to mug him. Not that Kihyun would, but it’s still kind of funny to keep pretending so, considering the look on the boy’s face.

“Good morning,” Kihyun tries again, and watches as the boy reaches up for one of the airpods and tugs it off.

“Good morning,” he says and his voice is a lot deeper than Kihyun had expected. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“I can tell,” Kihyun mumbles, eyes going between the boy and the airpod. “I hope it’s good music. I’d hate to be ignored every morning over bad music.”

The boy blinks and then _finally_ makes a different expression, a rather sheepish one at that, “Every… morning?”

“I kept saying ‘hello, good morning’ and you never answered.”

The boy blinks, eyes going a little wide. “Oh, I--” he bows his head once, twice, thrice, and keeps going, “I’m so sorry!”

Kihyun blinks. “It’s fi--”

“I really didn’t hear you and I don’t really--I’m usually distracted and I don’t notice--God, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Kihyun laughs, “Don’t worry…” _Cute._ “I’m Kihyun, by the way.”

“Changkyun…” the boy says, keeps blinking at Kihyun, face all soft like a kicked puppy.

Kihyun smiles a little at him and then gestures. “So… Good music?”

Changkyun blinks at Kihyun again and then at the airpod in his hand before sort of startling (again). “Ah… I… I’d hope so. I… made it…”

“You made it? The music?”

Changkyun nods and lowers his hand, eyes on the airpod. “I’m trying to come up with the lyrics but I’m not that good at putting feelings into words.”

“Hm,” Kihyun hums, blindly reaches for his bag and picks it up as he slides closer over the bench, smiling when he says, “Can I listen?”

Changkyun blinks up, watches Kihyun’s face for a few uncomfortable seconds and then nods, hands over the airpod and reaches for his phone.

It’s… good music, alright. It reminds Kihyun of the sunset over the ocean, the last sunset of summer, or a really nice autumn afternoon. It’s kind of sad, too, but not in a sad _sad_ way, just a melancholic way.

“I really like this,” Kihyun says softly, as if speaking too loud will ruin the experience.

Changkyun smiles a little and tilts his head. “Thank you.”

The air is clear and the long morning shadows distinct once the sun comes up and the bus shows up at the start of the street. Kihyun hands the airpod back to Changkyun and says, “Thank you,” as he makes to stand up, bag in hand.

“Thank you for listening,” Changkyun says.

Kihyun smiles at him and pulls the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, then.”

Changkyun leans back and smiles with his eyes, too. “See you tomorrow,” he says as he fits the airpod into his ear.

  


**ACTION**

The quietness of 6AM is now metallic clatter of pots and pans, splutter of water from the bathroom, the aroma of pancakes wafting between every room, the sound of Eunae's stomps as she runs through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Pappa, pappa, pappa, look!” she says as she tiptoes to show Kihyun a very ugly drawing. “It’s the story pappa tells!”

“What story,” Kihyun scoffs, glances down at Eunae’s bare feet and frowns. “Where are your socks?”

“What socks?” Eunae says, all puppy eyed as she slumps down, drawing still up in the air.

Kihyun sighs, reaches down to pick her up and glances at the drawing; two circles with sticks and a two cubes, one looking like a bus with squared wheels-- _how is that even supposed to roll…?_

“Is that fat stick supposed to be Kyun?” he asks, snorting when Eunae nods. _God._ “Alright, alright, I love it--Where did you--” Kihyun walks into the living room and looks around. _“Eunae,_ no socks means no pancakes for you.”

Eunae pouts and wiggles in Kihyun’s hold, but he hikes her up a little. _Wiggly little vermin._ And yet she's the love of his life.

“Socks?” Kihyun calls. “Sooooocks? Eunae’s feetsies are cold!” he says as he holds his daughter up and ducks his head, pulling her over his shoulders. “Let’s go look for your socks, careful with your head, baby.”

“Soooooocks!” Eunae shouts as she wiggles the drawing around.

“Sooocks!”

The door to the bathroom opens and steam comes out as Changkyun walks out in sweatpants and a towel over his shoulders, hair clinging to his face. He blinks at Kihyun and smiles a little when Eunae wiggles the drawing in his face.

“Pappa, pappa,” she yells, “It’s the story you tell!”

“The story?” Changkyun scoffs as he takes the drawing and looks down at it. He has to comb his hair back when a few drops fall onto the paper. “Oh…”

Kihyun leans in to kiss Changkyun’s face (only because he smiles ever so slightly whenever Kihyun does) and then peeks at the drawing. _It’s so ugly._ “You’re the thick stick,” Kihyun scoffs.

Changkyun raises an eyebrow and grins a little. “Thank you.” He looks up. “Thank you, Eunae, I love it!”

“What is it?” Kihyun whispers as he tries not to wince when Eunae turns his head into a drum, slapping him at the rhythm of a song Kihyun knows by heart. “It’s just lines…”

Changkyun glances up and then at Kihyun. “It’s the 6AM bus.”

Kihyun blinks. _Oh._ “Oh!” he frowns and raises his knee to kick Changkyun’s ass. “That’s not a bedtime story to tell a five years old!”

Changkyun laughs and runs off to the bedroom with the drawing as he sing-songs, “It’s the 6AM bus!” Which was definitely _not_ used as a metaphor for dick for three months after they started dating, _way_ after Changkyun's song '6AM Bus' made it to the radio; a love song about the sunrise and comfortable silences.

Then again, turns out Changkyun truly is a masked raver. And the day he got into that bus with Kihyun was the day their story truly began.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


End file.
